Christmas and New Year’s Eve can be difficult. That is evidenced by quiet celebrations such as the First Congregational Church’s “Blue Christmas” service, held to lift up and encourage those who were feeling blue during the holidays.
It has been an exceedingly difficult Christmas for everyone involved in the courthouse shooting on December 15. Friends and family of all involved are frightened, hurt, and now aching with loss.
There are no words that can express how deeply sorry I am for all involved.
So, I perhaps will just do what I planned to do last week. I will write a simple little column about the little miracles that happen every day. The little miracles that keep us going.
I experienced just such a tiny miracle on December 15. It’s a silly little event, but since I am the first to grumble about Murphy’s Law—the toast falling jelly side down, rain falling when I’ve forgotten my umbrella or something going on sale half-price the day after I’ve purchased it—I should be as willing to acknowledge the serendipitous happenings that also take place.
This minor miracle occurred when I was working on the photo story of the American Legion Auxiliary Christmas Carnival. I have the great pleasure of serving as Santa’s helper at the carnival and I snapped photos of many of the kids who came up to talk to Santa Claus. I told parents to write down their names and e-mail addresses and I’d send digital copies of the kids and Santa pictures to them. Many people took advantage of the offer.
I also took pictures of kids taking part in the cakewalk and playing carnival games. There was one especially cute photo of a little girl playing the “ice fishing game.” I asked her parents and grandparents for her name and jotted it down in my little composition tablet.
When it was time to leave the Legion Auxiliary carnival, I tucked the list of e-mail addresses inside the little notebook and headed home. And forgot about it.
Until it came time to pick which pictures were to go in the News-Herald. I immediately picked the cute little icefishing girl—but my notebook with her name was nowhere to be found. Also missing, to my dismay, was the list of e-mails of parents wanting Santa photos.
I called home to my husband, Chuck, and asked him to look around for me in the places where I thought I had left it. No luck. I searched my car. I searched all around my desk at work. No luck.
I figured I would have to run the photo without the cute little girl’s name. But worse, the parents of the kids who visited Santa would never receive their Santa pictures.
I was disappointed, but had to carry on with the other news and event coverage in the paper. As the day was winding down, I remembered that I was supposed to man the Salvation Army Red Kettle that afternoon—and I had forgotten my red Santa cap. I only live a few minutes away from work, so I dashed home to get the hat.
Imagine my delight when I picked it up and it was strangely heavy for a plush velvet cap. There was something inside. It was my little composition book and the list of e-mails!
Of course! I had worn the Santa hat at the Legion when I was Santa’s helper. So I didn’t lose the notebook as I carried things out to my car that day, I stuffed the notebook and paper into the hat.
Wonderful! I was able to dash back to work and get the little girl’s name— Madeline—added to the caption of the cute ice fishing game photo. And, I could now send e-mails with Santa pictures to the parents and grandparents who asked for them.
It made my day. It was an example of anti-Murphy’s Law. Murphy’s Law would have meant finding the little notebook after the paper had been printed.
I know, it’s a pretty minor miracle in the grand scheme of miracles. But it’s little things that help us get through every day. May you find many miracles— large and small— in the New Year. For every mountain there is a miracle Robert H. Schuller
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